


The Hollow Hand

by ProseByRose



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Biology, Anal Sex, Cardassians, Cultural Differences, Deadly Sins Garak/Bashir Fest, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Getting Together, LGBTQ+ character(s), M/M, Post-Episode: s06e19 In The Pale Moonlight, Romance, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 15:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19428571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProseByRose/pseuds/ProseByRose
Summary: As far as Julian is concerned, there’s no possible future between him and Garak, and it would be better to remain just friends. However, a conversation with Garak on the Seven Deadly Sins and the Cardassian equivalent, plus a little input from his friends, might very well change his mind.





	The Hollow Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Fic warning for explicit sexual content.
> 
> Quick reminder for anyone who hasn’t watched DS9 in awhile: Cardassians sometimes flirt through arguments. Because Cardassians are so secretive about certain aspects of their culture, this isn’t necessarily common knowledge.

“Really, the bureaucracy of it all is quite frustrating,” Garak said, fixing a look of indignation at Julian Bashir.

The two of them were headed to their weekly lunch date. Well, not _date_ date. Friend date, Julian thought to himself.

“Garak, the first time Starfleet asked you to decode a transmission for them, you lied and said it was an old planetary survey report, when in fact it was a plea for help originating from the Gamma Quadrant,” Julian said. “You can hardly blame them for being a little cautious.”

Garak, however, apparently didn’t appreciate that Starfleet required he have mandatory supervision if he was to be allowed to continue translating Cardassian transmissions.

_“That_ transmission had been a personal message meant for only me,” Garak said with a faux-innocent wide-eyed look. “I might very well be the only one who can decode Cardassian transmissions for Starfleet. You’d think they could be more grateful.”

Julian could see the line for the Replimat from here, and Garak didn’t sound like he was in a patient enough mood for it. There was the Bajoran cafe and Klingon restaurant, but Julian noticed the overwhelmingly number of gray uniforms around him on the promenade. Romulan uniforms to be precise.

And where there were Romulans on shore leave, you could bet some were in search of their prized liquor that Federation and Bajoran replicators couldn’t make. Even though the Federation had decriminalized possession and distribution of Romulan Ale several weeks ago, no one on DS9 had yet managed to get their hands on a shipment of it to sell, except for one very enterprising Ferengi. Knowing Quark, he had already been selling it illegally to customers for years and had a decent amount stocked up.

“Garak,” Julian said, trying to derail the rant before it started. “I know it isn’t our usual, but let’s eat at Quark's today.”

It hasn’t escaped Julian’s notice that since the Romulans joined forces with the Federation in the fight against the Dominion, Garak has shown a keen interest in keeping an eye on their newfound ally. Garak once told him he’d spent a bit of time on Romulus as a gardner—though he’s sure Garak was no more only a gardner there than he was a simple tailor now. He bets Garak would welcome any and all opportunities to observe the Romulans.

“If you insist, Doctor,” Garak said with a slight tilt of his head, as if he was conceding to Julian’s decision more than agreeing to it.

As he suspected, there was an abundance of Romulans at Quark’s, an abundance of Romulan ale, which meant abundant opportunities for Garak to covertly observe.

Julian also spotted a familiar human face. Elizabeth Lense, Chief Medical Officer of the USS _Lexington_ and an old Starfleet Medical Academy colleague, was sitting not far from the table that Garak chose for the two of them. When she glanced their way, he nodded—a subtle greeting—which she returned with a brief smile.

He had spent the better part of this morning showing her some of his latest research on Changeling biology. In an effort to be polite, he even invited her to spend lunch with him and Garak if she wished—she had once joined the two of them for lunch nearly three years ago during a previous visit to DS9—but today she had declined citing the desire to eat by herself.

He doesn’t blame her. The _Lexington_ suffered heavy casualties in the latest skirmish, and he knows this is the closest to peace and quiet she’s had in a long time.

Distracted by the task of pulling out a chair for both himself and Julian, Garak never even noticed her. Any other day Julian would point her out just to see Garak’s face light up at the unspoken challenge to remember all the details of their last meeting—a way for Garak to show off his highly trained memory. But today his friend was fretting over the war, and Julian knows now is not the time to bring up mundane details, such as his old colleague here on shore leave.

“I do trust you found _The Kimlar Blade_ to be a stimulating reading,” Garak said as soon as Quark had their orders.

“You know, when I said I wanted a book about free thought and not about sacrifice and duty for the good of Cardassia, that was _not_ what I meant.”

“Really?” Garak said, eyeing Julian like he just said the Federation uniform would look more stylish if it had the same ridiculous gold ornaments as the Ferengi military uniforms, which is to say he looked equally parts surprised and skeptical. As if he couldn’t have possibly foreseen that Julian would object to the book. Julian had learned long ago that more often than not, Garak’s face was a _liar._ “But you must admit Sekor had no loyalty to Cardassia.”

“Yes, and his family denounced him as a traitor right before he was beaten by Cardassian loyalists. One of his arms was severed during a riot, then he was interrogated by the Obsidian Order, and finally, publicly executed.”

“You have to admit that it makes for some very compelling reading,” Garak said, so earnest, and Julian _knew_ he was purposely provoking him.

A pair of Romulans ambled by, furiously discussing something between themselves. Garak intensely observed them out of the corner of his eye; Julian suspected he was reading their lips and kept quiet to avoid distracting him. It would be no easy task for Garak. At best, he’d only be able to pick out certain words and piece together possible meanings based on context and body language. And the universal translator would be of no help, requiring that he be fluent enough in all three Romulan dialects.

When they finished passing by, Julian said, “Painting rebellion against the state as cowardly and futile is the same as extolling the ‘virtues’ of complying with the government. It’s not any different from any other Cardassian book I’ve read.”

“Not any different? I suppose when you’re as blinded by Federation propaganda as you are, it can be hard to tell the difference,” Garak said. As offended as he was acting, you’d think Julian had called his store inventory garish and outdated. “And I guess you find the repetitiveness of Earth literature, on the other hand, to be invigorating and insightful?”

“I simply was interested in reading a book that was a little different, to get more of a variety,” Julian said calmly, but there was no stopping Garak now.

“Really, Doctor, I expected better of you,” Garak said, his tone bordering on irritated and condescending. “All I wanted was an exchange of literary analysis, an intellectual debate if you will, but you seem more interested in one-sided exultation of Federation cultural values.”

Elizabeth glanced over at their table with a frown. Julian could hardly blame her. After all, when she last saw the two of them together was several years ago, back when Garak was far more amiable during their lunches.

Garak used to fill their weekly lunches with a friendly smile and an air of intrigue, sometimes leaning slightly over the table towards Julian, his body language loose and expressive. Even a few months ago, back when Ziyal was still alive, Garak treated Julian as if they were the oldest of friends.

Now, Julian wouldn’t be surprised if Elizabeth assumed the friendship to be slowly crumbling.

“Before you completely despair,” Julian said with an exaggerated sympathetic voice, “I did figure out why it was titled _The Kimlar Blade_.”

“Did you?” Garak did his best to sound disbelieving, but his eyes were locked on Julian, betraying his anticipation.

“Hmm, yes. Sekor, well, he was trained in the hopes he would one day become a great Gul, until he became disillusioned with the Cardassian military command,” Julian said. “Several times the book took great pains to compare Cardassian soldiers to sharpened blades and deadly daggers.”

Garak’s chin tilted up at that, a bit of flirtatious Cardassian posturing. It’s more than a little concerning that Garak always seems most responsive to hearing Julian try to think like a Cardassian.

Quark brought over their meal fresh from the Replicator, forcing a pause on the conversation.

Julian dug into his bowl of Pakled vegetable stew with gusto, while Garak daintily picked at his own plate, as usual. He has a terrible suspicion Garak purposely doesn’t come to their ‘lunch dates’ hungry so he can be in prime mental condition for their verbal sparring. Which means Garak takes these outings very seriously; Julian isn’t sure if he’s entirely comfortable with what that implies.

“From what I understand, Derulik daggers and blades are treasured on Cardassi, so valuable they are passed down the generations as an heirloom. It’s a very specialized type of metal,” Julian continued, between mouthfuls. “And Kimlar metal can look very similar to Derulik, but it’s brittle, practically useless as a blade. A type of Fool’s Gold.”

“Fool’s... Gold?”

“It’s a nickname for a common mineral on Earth. The mineral has a passing resemblance to gold, but is in fact worth very little in comparison.”

Garak plucked up a plump takka berry, and it disappeared into his mouth with a flash of pink tongue. Julian tried not to let it distract him. ‘Friend date, not a _date_ date,’ he reminded himself.

“Ah, I see. Well, you are quite correct.” Garek didn’t give him the exaggerated nod of approval he used to give a few months ago. Instead he sat stiff and nearly motionless in his chair, though his eyes narrowed to slits in pleasure and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Perhaps I have underestimated you.”

Julian knew full well Garak had not underestimated him. If anyone had measured and tested Julian’s intellect repeatedly until the exact limits were found, it was Garak. But both of them lived by the motto “never reveal your hand,” so Garak pretended to underestimate Julian’s genetically enhanced intelligence, and Julian pretended to underestimate Garak’s deceptions and manipulations.

“What I don’t understand is what Sekor shouts when he realizes his hand has been amputated by a Cardassian soldier. Something about ‘my hollow hand now taken, perhaps I have found my redemption?’”

“My dear Doctor, have you never heard of ‘the hollow hand?’ It is a pillar of Cardassian culture. I’m afraid the phrase itself is a quirk of imprecise translation and antiquated language. The original phrase meant more along the lines of ‘easily broken hand’ than to be literally hollow.”

“And I assume it’s a metaphor of some type?”

A loud shout and a few cheers sounded from a nearby dabo table. Garak’s lips thinned, a sign of genuine discomfort and irritation at the loud noise. But it seemed the Cardassian had more important things on his mind than his comfort, because it took only a moment for his lips to relax again.

“You are correct. The phrase is a reference to five highly discouraged behaviors on Cardassia. Like the hand needs the five fingers, the individual needs the absence of these five flaws. If one indulges in a discouraged behavior, it is like having a fragile, easily-broken finger replace a healthy one. The hand becomes more and more useless, less able to wield a phaser, or repair the cyphermodule on a subspace relay, or even sew a stitch,” Garak said, miming trying to hold and fire a phaser with only three fingers. Technically possible, but not as easy and likely to affect aiming precision.

Julian mentally translated ‘wield a phaser’ to ‘fight Cardassia’s enemies,’ ‘repair cyphermodule’ to ‘keep state secrets,’ and ‘sew a stitch’ to ‘spy on the enemy.’ That last one was Garak’s own strange sense of humor. Garak finished his mini-lecture on Cardassian morality with, “To say someone has a hollow hand is to say they are self-destructive and morally corrupt.”

“Discouraged behaviors? Humans have a similar concept, you know. We can it the Seven Deadly Sins.”

“The what?” Garak finally leaned towards Julian, like he hadn’t heard him properly.

“The Seven Deadly Sins. It’s a list of vices that some humans considered to be the start of an individual’s moral decline. The concept was a part of western european history for several centuries.”

“And what are these ‘Seven Deadly Sins?’”

“Well, there’s envy and gluttony,” Julian said, ticking each one off on his fingers. “Wrath, greed, pride, sloth—oh, and lust.”

“I see,” Garak said. He looked positively delighted, and Julian didn’t even want to know what about this topic was so intriguing to him. “Very interesting that the seven behaviors humans consider, as you called it, ‘sins’ are perhaps the seven defining characteristics of the human race.”

_“What?_ No they aren’t,” Julian protested. He knows Garak has always been prone to strange interpretations of human behavior, but this was really beyond the pail.

“But they are. Take yourself for example—”

_“Me?”_

“You yourself indulge in many of them.”

“That’s _ridiculous,”_ Julian spluttered.

“Is it? There’s gluttony,” Garak said with a pointed look at Julian’s plate, where Julian was eating with his usual haste. Fine, it was probably bad manners to eat as fast as he did, but still.

“That’s not gluttony,” Julian said around a mouthful. Finished chewing, then said, “This is just—never mind what this is. _Gluttony_ is when your love of food hurts others, like if you take food from those who need it. Maybe even when your love of food hurts yourself.”

“Ah, so it must harm others to count,” Garak said, his tone suddenly friendly, which was a very bad sign. “How very interesting.”

“Seems like a fairly logical litmus test,” Julian said, eyes narrowed. Garak leaned towards Julian, a warm smile on his face, which was an even _worse_ sign.

See, whenever Garak gets in a flirty mood like this, he won’t stop the arguments for anything. _Unless_ Julian is about to do all the work for him. Which means whatever Garak’s about to say is going to say will be so ridiculously infuriating that Julian will be forced to argue about it.

“Well, I think we can agree you have a problem with lust,” Garak said.

He really means it too because he has the same look on his face as the time he called Julian’s casual ensemble he wore to the Risa Beach holosuite program, ‘a fitting tribute to a Denebian slime devil,’ which was unnecessarily insulting if you asked Julian. There is a rising panic in Julian that they are about to discuss the _thing_ that Julian is absolutely _not_ ready to discuss, which is mainly whatever this is with Garak.

“No, I _don’t.”_ Julian stared at him in disbelief, letting the incredulous look on his face speak for him.

“Well,” Garak said, breathing in deep to puff up his chest, the way Cardassian males do to look bigger. Definitely still flirting then. “You said yourself if it harms others. And poor Jadzia, you have to admit your romantic advances towards her are less than respectful at times, and in several instances were made against her express wishes, which is indeed a definition of harmful.”

“That wasn’t, I never—”

“You told me the only reason you caught those Klaestrons kidnapping her was because when she politely turned you down when you asked to accompany her back to her quarters, you decided to follow her anyways.”

“Technically, she had not _forbidden_ me from—” Julian began, then sighed at the reproachful look Garak gave him. So maybe Julian hadn’t behaved the best in that particular instance.

“And you really are very selfish whenever she tries to share with you about her relationship with Worf,” Garak continued. “Too busy sulking to genuinely congratulate her. Not the best way to be a friend.”

This conversation was fast becoming far worse than he ever imagined. He’s not sure why Garak wants to talk about this. Jealousy is the obvious answer, which means that it can’t be that. Nothing is _ever_ the obvious answer when it comes to Garak.

“Fine,” Julian admits before Garak brings up the time Julian’s—and everyone else’s—imagined thoughts became reality thanks to some interfering aliens. The Jadzia from Julian’s imagination had only her looks and not her personality or her intelligence. It had probably been more than a little insulting to the real Jadzia.

“Pride is another,” Garak said, in such a friendly voice it sounded like he was listing Julian’s better aspects instead of his faults. “As I’ve said many times before, now that your genetic enhancements are no longer a secret, you practically flaunt your expansive intelligence. You can no longer be mistaken for one of us, the mere natural and unenhanced.”

The regularity with which Garak brings this up whenever he argues leaves Julian with the distinct impression Garak must find it very attractive. His best guess is it has less to do with the fact that Julian is genetically enhanced, and more to do with the fact he successfully kept it a secret from everyone for so many years, even from Garak.

“There’s nothing wrong with taking pride in my work,” Julian countered, “and now that I no longer have to hide my genetic status, I think it’s important to use my skills to the utmost of my ability. Especially now when we’re in a war.”

_“I_ never said there was anything wrong with pride,” Garak said. “Cardassians, unlike your human ‘deadly sins,’ quite encourage it. Our discouraged vices differ quite a bit.”

“Oh really?” Julian said. This ought to be interesting.

“Yes. Let’s see, there is sedition—”

“Naturally.” There may have been a hint of sarcasm in Julian’s voice.

“Then deviance. _Credulity.”_

“It’s considered a _vice_ for wanting to believe people are telling the truth?”

“Yes, as one might expect. Indiscretion, of course, and lastly, infidelity.”

Yes, Julian could remember the severity with which Cardassian viewed marital infidelity. It could cost a Cardassian not only his or her marriage, but also political and social status.

“And unlike you and your human vices,” Garak continued, “I am the _paragon_ of Cardassian virtue and do not indulge myself in our vices.”

Julian gaped.

And there it is, the trap Garak laid for him. The outrageous statement that cannot be ignored and must be argued against, because is _no way_ Julian is the ‘sinner’ while Garak is the ‘paragon of virtue.’

But to Julian’s horror, he realizes he’s not sure he _can_ argue against it. Garak is loyal to Cardassia, he rigidly adheres to Cardassian norms, is suspicious of everyone, it’s impossible to get the truth out of him let alone get him to spill secrets he shouldn’t, and Garak has never been married, so he can’t possibly have ever had the chance to be unfaithful to a spouse.

“Well, sorry to leave Doctor, but it does appear my allotted time for lunch is nearly over. I really must get back,” Garak said, voice full of cheer as if he hasn’t just upended the entire conversation all over Julian. “There are transmissions to decode and trousers to mend. Farewell.”

In a daze, Julian finished eating—chewing mechanically, the noise from the dabo tables sounding distant—and cleared away his plate to the replicator. What did Garak hope to gain? It’s clear he intends Julian to continue the argument next time they see each other, but Julian’s not sure he has anything to counter with.

Next thing he knew, he was hovering by the bar. Quark started to shoot him ‘what’s wrong with you’ looks.

“You gonna order anything?” Quark said. “Or do you prefer to just stand there?”

“Do you know Garak just said according to human morality, I’m very flawed, but according to Cardassian morality, he’s not,” Julian blurted out. “I have no idea what to make of that.”

Quark may at first seem an odd person to confide in, but Julian knows him well enough, and he’s one of the few on the station who’s had a love affair with a Cardassian. So far, he’s also the only one who gives Julian the ‘that’s very interesting’ raised eyebrows whenever he hears Julian and Garak argue. Everyone else doesn’t seem to notice, perhaps explaining it away as two friends under stress from the war. No one else seems to get the undercurrent of what it might mean.

“Who cares,” Quark said, serving up a small glass of what looked like a _raktajino_ to Worf, who was seated at the bar with a frown on his face. Julian is certain he saw Worf and Jadzia exit the holosuites a few minutes ago. He idly wondered if perhaps they had an argument, or if the frown had more to do with the war. “The truth of the matter is both of you are miserably bad at the one thing that does matter.”

“What is that?” Julian said with no small amount of trepidation. He was afraid Quark might say ‘dealing with matters of the heart,’ or outright say ‘love.’ Julian braced himself.

_“Profit,”_ Quark said.

Right. Profits outweighs morality, or so Quark loudly claimed, though his actions sometimes said otherwise.

Worf exhaled slowly, glaring at Quark.

“Do not listen to him,” Worf commanded Julian. “It is true what Garak said is of no consequence, but for a very different reason. I have served with you long enough to know you are an honorable man, but Garak.” Worf’s mouth curved into a grimace. “Garak is prone to deceit and subterfuge. _He lacks honor.”_

And really, to Quark and Worf, that settled the matter.

“You don’t understand,” Julian groaned. “It matters because—”

* * *

“—I’m failing to live up to my own moral ideal, while Garak isn’t failing to live up to his own!”

Odo snorted.

“I’m not surprised Garak would consider himself ‘living up to his own ideal,’” Odo said, mocking the last part of the sentence.

Julian had tried to forget the entire conversation with Garak had ever happened. It had bothered him all afternoon, pestering him in the back of his mind while he tended to his patients. After his shift ended, he had meant to go back to his quarters to eat (and maybe stew about it some more), but Odo and Kira had seen him from their table in the Replimat and had waved him over.

He’s sure the two of them are on a date, and he meant to say “hello” and go about his evening, but instead he’s asking for advice.

“Look,” Kira said, amused, “if Garak wants to admit to being a distrustful underhanded liar, then I say let him.”

But that was asking too much of both Julian _and_ Odo.

“I agree with Doctor Bashir, it would be a very vexing conversation,” Odo said. At least _someone_ agreed with him. “It’s a strange definition of ‘moral ideal,’ especially considering Garak spent some not inconsiderable time in the brig for attempted genocide.”

Oddly enough, that wasn’t the prime example Julian would have chosen to prove Garak’s less than pristine morality. Odo may never understand why Garak tried to do what he did, but Julian did, even if he didn’t agree with it. Fear was a powerful motivator, and the female Changeling had threatened the Cardassians with genocide first.

“Really, don’t let Garak get to you,” Kira said, briefly clasping Julian’s forearm in a comforting grip. “Trying to beat a Cardassian at a game of moral relativism is like trying to beat a Klingon in a _bat'leth_ competition. Make it clear you’re not playing his game. According to any decent moral standard, you’re not the one failing, he is.”

But if those were the standards Garak chose to measure himself by, then it did matter, and Julian didn’t know how to explain it to her. What Garak deemed important _mattered._

“Both of you have been around Cardassians years longer than I have,” Julian said. “Isn’t there anything you can tell me?”

Odo and Kira exchanged a _look._

“Well, we both worked with—” Odo began, and then at the raised eyebrows from Kira, amended “—or fought against the Cardassian _military,_ not the whole of Cardassians. The Cardassian military government is different from the civilian government which is different the Obsidian Order. And the only ones who really know anything about the Obsidian Order is the Obsidian Order itself. I’m afraid anything we could tell you would be of limited use.”

“So nothing at all?” Julian said, trying not to sound defeated.

Kira sighed, bracing both her hands against the top of the table, a sign she was preparing herself for what she was about to say.

“There was a saying in the Bajoran resistance,” Kira said, “that a Gull will loudly weep at the loss of a battle, but when he lights the lamp for the dead for his slain child, no tears will fall.”

“Surely you don’t believe that,” Julian said, horrified that she would say such a thing.

He knew some military Cardassians and those from the Obsidian Order could be capable of great cruelty, but even so, to believe they didn’t love their own _children?_

“It’s not what it sounds like,” Kira said, raising a hand to silently request he stop talking and truly _listen._ “What do you know of Bajoran death chants? Or funerals for vedeks?”

“Not much,” Julian admitted. “I know it’s a funeral custom to light the lamp for the dead—the _duranja_ —and then pray for the deceased, but that’s all I know.”

“When someone important to our relationship with the Prophets dies, a vedek for instance, we honor them by holding a large funeral in a temple,” Kira explained. “It’s customary for _everyone_ to show their grief, not just those who knew the deceased personally. The grief can be expressed by praying and, for some, loudly weeping.

“But for the family of the vedek, it’s common for them not to weep, at least not at the public funeral. Their grief is different from the other mourners, more personal. Those tears only fall behind closed doors, away from the _duranja_ and the gaze of others.”

Julian could see where she was going with this.

“The way the Cardassians revere their own government, you’d think it was headed by the Prophets themselves. Like our temple mourners, Cardassians make quite a show when a battle on behalf of the government is lost. But with matters close to the heart—the real grief—many don’t show it, not to anyone. It’s locked away where no one else can see it,” Kira said, “but it’s there all the same.”

He remembered Garak when his father died. No one would have guessed he was in mourning, not then and not in the weeks that followed. But Julian knew because Garak had let him hear Enabran Tain call him ‘son.’ He had ushered Julian in past the metaphorical closed doors into his private grief.

“It’s not just grief,” Odo said. “Anything from friendship to fear to guilt can be locked away from prying eyes. I saw it myself when Garak interrogated me on behalf of Enabran Tain. He may have looked like the calm, determined interrogator at first, but eventually the facade cracked, revealing his fear for me, his friend.”

It would be the same for love too, of course.

Julian tried to ignore his pounding heart. Flirtation and lust were leagues away from love. Garak loved Cardassia, he lusted for Julian, there was a _difference._

“So what you’re saying,” Julian said, “is that what I think Garak is feeling—”

* * *

“—an’ what he actually feels, can be two different things? How’m I to know what he _is_ feeling?”

Julian flopped onto the couch, pouting up at the ceiling.

“Why we talkin’ ‘bout Garak?” Miles said, pouring himself another drink and then stumbling over to sit by Julian. “I asked you ‘bout, uh, ‘Lizabeth. You’re not makin’ any sense.”

Of course Julian was making sense. He may be drunk but he wasn’t _that_ drunk.

“I need to know wha’ he’s feeling,” Julian repeated.

“Nevermind what he’s feeling, do you _like_ her?” Miles said. “You know, Elizabeth I mean. I think she might like you.”

Miles didn’t understand, Julian _needed_ to know.

Garak had always been such a flirt around him. And he’d be all mysterious and enticing and use that stupid secretive smile of his that Julian liked way too much. But for years it had been the kind of flirting you’d expect to see from a human, for the most part. Sure, sometimes Garak used to argue with him a bit, indulge himself in it like it was a luxury. But now all he does is argue, exclusively flirting as a Cardassian. Why the change?

“She’s pretty,” Miles said. “An’ I think it’d be good for you to forget abou’ the war for a bit.”

Really, Julian should forget about Garak. Who cared about his stupid handsome face. It didn’t matter that he had big, strong hands or that the sharp, mesmerizing ridges on his face made his lips look soft or that he had a dangerously clever mind.

“I don’t even like him,” Julian firmly declared. “Not like that.”

He liked to flirt with Garak, not date him, of course not.

“Oh _no,”_ Miles groaned. “Garak—really, _Garak?”_

Julian tried not to imagine Garak curled up behind him whispering in his ear, or himself kissing and licking those neck ridges, or Garak’s warm hand skimming down his stomach headed to a far more interesting location.

It wasn’t working.

“It’s just, you know,” Julian said, “he’s been acting so odd lately—”

* * *

“—and I don’t know what it means!”

“Odd?” Jadzia said, glancing over at him. “How has he been acting odd?”

She adjusted the output of the detronal scanner, again running it over the tissue sample. There had been an Dranuil outbreak on a Bardeezan merchant ship that was now contained, but as the ship was currently docked at DS9, safety precautions and tests were in order.

“I don’t know, _odd._ I mean, just yesterday we were talking about the discouraged vices of our respective cultures. I talked about the Seven Deadly Sins for humans—lust, greed, wrath, pride, gluttony, sloth, envy—and he talked about the Hollow Hand, the Cardassian equivalent. Only, at the end of it, he said humans, including me, so frequently indulged in our vices, it practically defined us.”

Jadzia made a noise that was a combination of a huff and a laugh. Julian gave her an aggrieved look.

“What? He’s not wrong,” she said with a shrug.

“You don’t really believe that, do you? And he talked about how he was above it all, how he never indulged in the Cardassian vices.”

He checked over the latest readout on the monitor and grimaced. Jadzia shook her head, entering the current information on her PADD. It appeared the disease had taken quite a toll on the crew before it was finally contained.

“Do I even want to know what the Cardassian vices are?” Jadzia said. “Let me guess, rebellion against the state?”

“Technically, sedition. And credulity, deviance, infidelity, and indiscretion.”

It’s not that he hated arguing with Garak or anything like that; that wasn’t his complaint. Like most of their interactions, it still involved quick thinking and clever quips. There was even something to be said for the intensity a good argument could bring out.

“Hmm, well to answer your earlier question, yes, I do believe humans are very prone to the ‘Seven Deadly Sins,” she said. “Think about it. Joined trills have their own list, just like humans and Cardassians, and you already know the most discouraged vice on the list. Care to take a guess?”

“No reassociation between a joined Trill and their previous hosts’ romantic partners,” Julian recited.

He could admit it was very flattering to be the recipient of Garak’s laser-sharp focus. Usually Garak focused on several things at once, a dozen different puzzles working themselves out in his head, but once he started in on an argument, he was completely and utterly in the moment.

“And what are most joined Trills tempted to do?”

“Fall back in love with their previous lover all over again,” Julian said. He’s watched Jadzia struggle with this very thing.

“A civilization’s not going to put that much effort into discouraging something that most of its citizens aren’t tempted to do. What is forbidden can tell you as much about a culture as what it encourages. For Trills, a lot of our vices center around not moving on from our previous hosts’ lives because that’s what we’re most tempted by. Humans, _well…”_

“Ok, you’ve made your point,” Julian said. “It’s hard to imagine Cardassians being tempted by sedition, though.”

In a way, their arguments even afforded them a bit of privacy. As the only Cardassian on the station, everyone always noticed where Garak went, and what he did, and who he spent time with. But most individuals on the station generally don’t read that much into seeing a pair of friends constantly bickering. It’s the closest he and Garak will ever get to having people’s gazes slide right over them in disinterest.

“If they were as obedient as they like to pretend, there really wouldn’t have been a need for the Obsidian Order to spy on its own citizens as thoroughly as it did, would there?” Jadzia said. “In the past couple of years we’ve watched the dissolution of the Obsidian Order, a civilian revolution, and now there’s a growing number of dissidents.”

“So you’re saying even Garak would be tempted by the Cardassian vices?”

But what Julian _does_ miss is the surety of what their interactions meant. The flirting of years past was fun, harmless, and not done with any true intent. Sure, maybe there was a chance they’d have slept together if they hadn’t been such close friends, but that was the extent of it.

“If Garak were really such a model of Cardassian virtue, do you _really_ think he would have been exiled?” Jadzia said.

‘Never tell the truth when a lie will do,’ Julian remembered. The words Garak lived by.

“Assuming Garak lied,” Julian said, “how am I to know—”

* * *

“—which vices he was lying about?”

Commander Sisko hummed in thought, and relaxed back in his chair.

Julian was here to update the Commander on the Dranuil situation, but to his embarrassment, even Sisko had noticed Julian’s mind was elsewhere. When he had admitted to a personal matter weighing on his mind, Sisko had offered a sympathetic ear.

“Maybe that’s the wrong question, Doctor,” Sisko said. “I’ve found when dealing with Garak, it’s like dealing with a street magician.”

There had been a time when Sisko had very few dealings with Garak. Julian had been a glorified liaison between the two for years, and it had taken Julian a long time to see it, even with his genetically enhanced brain.

That first time they met, between the attention and the flirting, Garak had flawlessly convinced Julian that he was after the classified information locked away in Julian’s brain. But Julian was never the target. He was simply Garak’s ticket to convincing Commander Sisko of Garak’s usefulness in clandestine operations.

Not to say Garak wasn’t genuinely attracted to Julian right from the beginning, because he obviously was. And that they weren’t friends then, because they were. Garak had also been sincerely interested in teaching Julian about intelligence operations, but the truth of the matter is that at first, Julian had been both Garak’s friend and a useful tool.

“What you’re seeing is purely what Garak wants you to see, the distraction. It’s all part of the illusion to hide the real trick he intends to play,” Sisko said, and added in an almost bitter voice, “I’ve learned that the hard way.”

It used to be Julian who helped Garak carry out his intelligence gathering when it was a matter the Federation would take an interest in, both of them striving to convince Sisko of the importance of what they found. Now that Garak has proven himself to Sisko several times over, whatever intelligence gathering Garak does, he does alone, and the information is for Sisko’s ears only.

Surprisingly, it’s deepened his friendship with Garak. Now when Garak and Julian meet for their weekly lunches, they meet for only the pleasure of each other’s company. It’s no longer the spy and his liaison, but simply two close friends.

“You’re right, of course,” Julian realized. “Garak always misdirects attention away from whatever he’s hiding.”

Garak used to use his desire for Julian’s attention to help hide his intent to establish his usefulness to the Federation. After accomplishing his first goal, he used flirting to obscure his deepening friendship with Julian. Everyone knew they were friends, sure, but the flirtatious nature of their interactions gave everyone the impression it was a more casual friendship, instead of the true depth there was.

And now that Garak insisted on flirting through arguments, no one saw the flirtatiousness anymore. All they saw was the friendship, which hid his attraction to Julian from the public. Somehow or other, the flirting had become too personal to let others see.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Sisko warned. “Or otherwise you’ll find yourself convinced you’re one step ahead of him, when you’re actually ten steps behind. It’s a _specialty_ of his.”

Garak wouldn’t need to hide if it were only attraction, but he would desperately feel the need to hide love.

* * *

If that was the case, what was Garak _thinking,_ falling in love with him? Garak’s one goal in life was to return to Cardassia. Julian was a Federation officer. There’s no future for a couple like them.

“Everything alright?”

“Hmm?” Julian said, looking up to see Elizabeth Lensen standing at the entrance of the medical bay looking at him with concern. “Yes, fine. Um, what can I help you with?

“Time for my three month check-up,” she said, walking into the exam room with a shy smile. “The end of the first trimester, _finally.”_

“End of the first—oh, congratulations!” Julian said, bringing up her medical record on the biomonitor and gesturing for her to sit on a cot. “I didn’t know you were expecting.”

“Hmm, yes. I know to most people it must seem like strange timing, the middle of a war,” she said as she reclined on the medical cot. “But the father and I, well, we’ve both learned there’s no predicting the future. I joined the _Lexington_ thinking I’d be going on an adventure, instead it was, as I’ve told you, a charting expedition that ended with no contact with new inhabited planets.

“Now there’s a war, and the _Lexington_ sees more action than I know what to do with. Maybe it makes more sense to wait until the fighting ends, or until our wedding, but why wait for a future that won’t be what I expect?”

“I’ve had to learn that lesson the hard way myself,” Julian agreed. Beginning to scan her with the medical tricorder, he kept a close eye out for signs of inflammation or high blood pressure, a not uncommon medical complication for someone regularly exposed to the stress of battle. “The curse of a genetically enhanced brain: I know that according to every long-term projection there is, we’ll lose this war and with extensive casualties.”

Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow, not surprised at the statement. He guessed she didn’t need a genetically enhanced brain to come to the same conclusion; she had always been exceptionally bright.

“And yet, there’s no way to know for certain,” Julian said. “Maybe we win, maybe we won’t, who knows what the casualty list will be, but we keep fighting, because freedom is worth fighting for.”

According to the scan, she looked to be in decent health, and the pregnancy was progressing well.

“And it’s worth fighting for the ones we love,” Elizabeth said. “I don’t want my child raised under Dominion rule. I don’t care how dismal the odds are, I’m never giving up.”

Julian was silent a moment. He had been such a fool.

“Yes,” he said quietly, “no matter how dismal the odds, it’s worth fighting for someone we love, because there’s no predicting the future.”

* * *

Garak’s shop wasn’t far from the medical bay, but it felt like an _eternity_ to Julian.

It had been torture to wait for his shift to end, and then once it had, he’d realized the shop would be open another hour and Garak would be busy with orders and customers. So he had waited, distracting himself with his latest research project, until _finally_ it was time to talk to Garak and Julian had bolted out the door.

“Oh hey, want to join me for a game of darts?” Miles called out as Julian marched past him.

“Sorry, I have something I need to do,” Julian said. He could see the entrance to the shop now.

“I know exactly what you’re going to do,” Miles said with a sigh, putting a hand on Julian’s arm to make him pause for a moment.

“I _really_ don’t think you do,” Julian said, trying not to sound too impatient.

“No, I’m pretty sure I do. Look, I don’t understand why _Garak_ of all people _,_ but I don’t need to understand it. If he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”

“Oh,” Julian said, realizing he had once again underestimated his friends. “Miles, thank you, I—”

Miles held up a hand to silence him.

“Just do me a favor,” Miles said, “ _No details_ —”

“Right, no details on my relationship with Garak,” Julian said, trying to ignore the pit forming in his stomach. It’s not like Julian typically confided many details—especially sexual details—about his relationships to Miles, but he had always been there for Julian if he needed to talk or had questions, no matter what the topic, no matter how personal.

And for Miles to say that because Julian was dating a male—and maybe that was an unfair assumption to make, but it was hard to imagine Miles saying the same thing if Julian dated a female Cardassian, even if she had a personality like Garak’s, meaning the ban on details had nothing to do with Cardassians, Garak’s personality, or anything like that.

“What? No, not no details on your relationship, what kind of friend do you take me for?” Miles said bewildered. “Tell me all the details you want about it. No details—and I mean it—on Keiko’s and my relationship, _especially_ when we’re fighting. Garak will make a pointed remark with the worst timing, you know he will, and I’ll probably lose my temper.”

Miles looked a bit sheepish admitting that last part.

“He really would,” Julian said with a grin. He may love Garak—and how refreshing it was to admit that—but he had a remarkable talent for pissing off anyone with a short fuse, including Miles. “Alright, no conversations with Garak about your relationship with Keiko.”

Miles nodded his thanks and said, “Good luck.”

* * *

“Doctor, what a pleasant surprise,” Garak said as he finished locking up his shop, pretending not to have noticed Julian approaching. He knew better than to fall for it. Garak kept a close eye on everyone in his vicinity, and no doubt noticed the second Julian came into view. “Out for a stroll?”

“Actually, I was hoping for the privilege of walking you back to your quarters,” Julian said, clasping his hands behind his back to hide his nervousness.

“And if I say ‘no?’”

So that explained their earlier conversation about Jadzia. Garak hadn’t been jealous, he’d been making clear his expectation that Julian would heed his boundaries.

“I’d respect your wishes,” Julian said. He’d learned his lesson.

“Well then, by all means, I look forward to you accompanying me,” Garak said, gesturing for Julian to walk with him. Julian gladly fell in step, trying not to be too obvious that he was drinking up the sight of Garak, letting his gaze linger now that he gave himself permission to look. “If you don’t mind my saying so, there seems to be something on your mind.”

“Well, it’s just that conversation we had the other day. The one where you insisted you were a paragon of Cardassian virtue.”

Garak gave him a _look,_ and Julian suspected he just got caught watching.

“Ah, well, I hope we can both agree on my assessment,” Garak said.

“I _cannot_ agree with it. Honestly, I’m shocked at the very suggestion.”

“Oh?” Garak said, giving Julian his full attention.

Julian had been waiting for this moment. Deep breath to puff up the chest? Check. Tilted chin? Check. Garak noticed immediately, his mouth going slack and his gaze darting all over Julian’s body for several long moments before he seemed to remember he had an audience.

“I think you must be mistaken,” Garak said, posturing just as much as Julian now.

“Really? Because from what I understand, decoding Cardassian military transmissions for Starfleet sure sounds like you’re well on your way to insurgency against the current Cardassian government.”

“More like against the Dominion, Doctor, but I suppose you can include the puppet government too if you must,” Garak said with an affronted sniff.

“So you admit to sedition. Well, how about credulity? Because I seem to recall you were so eager to believe everything out of my mouth, you never even guessed at my genetically engineered enhancements.”

Garak’s gaze darted helplessly to Julian’s lips.

“You have been indiscreet,” Julian accused. “Why, I know about your claustrophobia. Me, an enemy of Cardassia, and I know your weakness.”

“Only because you don’t know when to stay out of other people’s business,” Garak snapped. His hand lightly touched Julian’s wrist, a small stroke that said ‘thank you for seeing the terror that gripped me and helping me through it.’

“And as for deviance, instead of loyalty to your birth family—which is the very pillar of Cardassian society—here you are, making friends and forming relationships with non-Cardassians.”

They had arrived at Garak’s quarters now, and the door opened with a whoosh.

“That may be, Doctor,” Garak said, walking far enough into the room to force Julian to enter if he wished to continue the argument, “but I see you have nothing to say about infidelity.”

“On the contrary, Garak,” Julian said, entering the room as challenged, “quite a few of those books you lent me implied loyalty to Cardassia is the same as a marriage. What did _The Never-Ending Sacrifice_ say? ‘I give to Cardassia my life and my love, pledging myself to her, for she is my wife.’”

“We are all husbands and wives to Cardassia,” Garak agreed.

“And you have been unfaithful to her,” Julian said, stepping in close so he was but a breath away from Garak. “For when you were to love only her, you also loved me.”

For a moment, he could see the longing in Garak’s eyes, the mask stripped away. It was the same longing he himself had tried to ignore for so long.

Unable to help himself, he kissed Garak, one hand cradling his cheek. As his lips tasted the softness of Garak’s mouth, his palm soaked in the feeling of smooth skin and sharp ridges.

As he ended the brief embrace, Garak turned his head into Julian’s palm, pressing a kiss against his hand.

‘I’m sorry it took so long for me to admit I love you,’ Julian thought.

But it didn’t matter how long it took to get here, because he was here now. Blue eyes gazed into his own, reminding him that he wasn’t alone in what he was feeling. He brushed his thumb against the ridge under the eye, feeling the natural armor of the Cardassian skin.

Strong arms encircled his waist, bringing him flush against Garak. Here, pressed so close together, Julian realized with no small amount of embarrassment that Garak would immediately feel how desire affected his body. But maybe that was the point.

This time they both leaned forward together, kissing deep and their bodies saying the things they had never said out loud. ‘Come closer’ and ‘let me feel you’ and ‘I want to share all of myself with you.’

Garak’s hands latched onto Julian’s Starfleet uniform, feeling for the zipper at the front. In response, Julian grasped Garak’s hips, an anchor in the onslaught of desire and emotion. Slowly pulling the zipper down, Garak held his eyes, not letting either of them hide from this moment.

As the uniform slumped to the ground, Julian divested himself of his undershirt, leaving himself nearly bare save for boxers. Done with his task, Garak’s hands wandered across the skin of Julian’s chest, feeling the smoothness of a skin absent any scales or ridges.

“Garak, please,” Julian said, tugging at Garak’s shirt.

Garak obliged his unspoken request, removing his clothes with a slowness that _teased._ It’s not the first time he’s seen Garak unclothed—mainly due to Garak’s medical emergencies over the years—but this is the first time he’s seen him in a situation where he’s allowed to look his fill and acknowledge his want.

Greedy hands grabbed the waistband of his boxers, and before he knew it, both of them stood naked before each other, no longer hiding behind clothes or deceptions.

And oh, Garak was beautiful. He stood neither embarrassed or ashamed, baring himself to Julian. There was strength in his shoulders, a soft roundness to his belly, and a fierce want burning in his eyes.

Julian walked a few steps backward towards the bedroom and Garak reached out, clasping their hands together so that Julian could lead him hand-in-hand. Several steps away from the bed, Julian let go to find a comfortable position on the bed.

Garak watched as Julian situated himself. Not wishing to hide any part of his body from Garak, Julian sprawled back onto the bed, legs apart.

“My dear, what is it you want of me tonight?” Garak said, stepping close enough to the side of the bed to stroke his hand through Julian’s hair.

“I want you in me,” Julian said, desperate enough to be blunt. _“Please.”_

Only pausing long enough to grab lube from the nightstand, Garak returned to him, first kneeling between his legs and then leaning over him. A desperate kiss was exchanged as a wet finger teased at him where he was vulnerable. When it finally breached him, he groaned his pleasure into Garak’s mouth.

Julian started to explore the body over him in turn. When his fingers found Garak’s genital slit, he slipped a finger inside. The kissing turned fiercer as Julian learned how to pleasure him.

When his desire for more became too insistent, Julian removed his finger, letting his hand rest against the slit. As if it couldn’t bear to be parted from his touch, Garak’s cock slipped out of it’s protective pouch. Julian brushed his fingers against the warm length.

“Now, Garak,” Julian gasped.

Garak aligned himself and pressed into him, slowly joining their bodies together. He felt _full,_ his legs pressed against Garak’s sides as Garak began his rhythm.

The pleasure built as he reveled in the feeling of Garak inside him, listened to the sound of their bodies coming together, and watched the movement of his lover’s hips and the strain in his muscles. Their breaths became harsh pants.

Garak’s hand found his cock, stroking him.

_“Garak,”_ Julian cried out, the pleasure finally cresting, his body lost to the feeling.

He felt Garak’s rhythm falter for a moment before he pressed as deep inside as he could go and came.

* * *

“Looks like I was right,” Julian teased. “About your vices.”

Now cleaned up, the two of them were curled up together under the blankets.

“Well, you were right about most of them, my dear,” Garak said, absently stroking Julian’s bare arm with his hand. “Except infidelity.”

Julian glanced at Garak, puzzled.

“I’m afraid seducing a senior officer of an enemy state, like the Federation, is quite encouraged, and not considered unfaithfulness to Cardassia. It is, after all, a very good way to gain information.”

“You didn’t seduce me, I seduced _you,”_ Julian said, indignant. “And if that wasn't the right answer for infidelity, what was?”

“Well, Ziyal, of course.”

_“Ziyal!”_

“We were together for over a year,” Garak said. “The Cardassian equivalent of human dating is much more serious, more like a courtship. To be together so long, most Cardassians would assume there to be a wedding announcement soon.”

Which in no way meant Garak had intended to propose to her. Even though the two of them had been together awhile, neither of them had seemed to be thinking of becoming more serious. Where was Garak going with this?

“And to have such a serious relationship with a woman who was only half-Cardassian, well, _that_ would be considered being unfaithful. I’m afraid Cardassia doesn’t look kindly on marriage to non-Cardassians.”

Julian sat up enough to lean over Garak.

“And courting a human?” Julian asked, looking Garak in the eyes.

“Oh yes, _that_ would be considered infidelity too.”

Julian trailed a finger down Garak’s throat onto his chest, then bent down to kiss where Garak’s neck ridges joined his shoulder.

“Garak, would you join me in my quarters for dinner tomorrow?” Julian said, then pressed another sweet kiss against his neck ridges. “I’d like to court you.”

“Of course, my dear,” Garak said, looking quite pleased. “It seems you’ve made me into _quite_ the sinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is not sure they like that Garak said Ziyal is the real answer to infidelity, remember Garak lies to get what he wants, and what he wants is a serious relationship with Julian (not just a casual relationship.) It’s his own way of telling Julian what he’s hoping for without outright admitting it. In truth, Julian (not Ziyal) is why Garak was “unfaithful” to Cardassia :)
> 
> Thank you to [Katarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katarra/pseuds/Katarra) for beta reading! 
> 
> All kudos and comments are loved and appreciated!


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